Mistakes
by BollyKnickers
Summary: A2A Alex finds herself in a spot of trouble. Alex/Gene, eventually. Note: I reuploaded chapter 4 cos I made like two mistakes... it's not a completely different chapter so if you already read it, don't read it again lol
1. Chapter 1

**Mistakes**

**A/N: **Title subject to change. I HATE thinking of titles. Right so this is my first ever fic of the LoM/A2A fandom but I am so in love with the character of Alex I had to do something with it (you might not believe me when you get to the end LOL). I really hope it's not too out of character. It's nowhere near as good as the few other A2A pieces of read but there are so few that I wanted to put SOMETHING out there. Hopefully you'll enjoy. This is only part one, I'll get the next bit up A.S.A.P. Warning, this chapter does contain some violence of a sexual nature but that's all I'm saying. I think this is maybe a bit _out there_ but I do like to try and be different. Hopefully it doesn't offend anyone.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own any of the characters or the initial idea of the show. Only character I do own is Matt... unfortunately. Yes, my mind is that warped.

---

The first thing Chris saw when he opened his eyes and looked up from his desk, was flesh. He blinked and moved back in his chair, realizing it was in fact someone's back. And that someone was none other than his DI, Alex Drake, standing in front of him, the back of her black, knee-length dress unzipped. For a second he wondered if he was dreaming or hallucinating or something.

"Oh sorry Boss...M'am. You scared me. Can I erm...what...erm...yes?"

She glanced at him over her shoulder, smirking, "care to do the honours?"

_Okay,_ he thought, _I really am dreaming._

"Erm I... I mean... I'm... Shaz... and you... erm," Chris took a deep breath, "I can't. It's not right."

Alex ruptured into laughter, "relax Chris, I just want you to zip me up."

"Oh, right." His cheeks flushed red and he reached out shakily to oblige, "why me m'am?"

"You're the only one I trust enough to do it without grabbing my arse," she remarked, sauntering out of the office as quickly as she'd entered it.

Quite possibly the only good thing about being stuck in 1981, she'd decided, was the ability to have the freedom to do whatever she liked. End up with a new guy every night and not feel guilty about it because she knew that soon enough she'd be back home and none of this would matter._It's all in my head anyway; I might as well have fun with it._ And anyway, it wasn't as if she was doing this for herself. He was a suspect. Not a suspect in a case as such, but she'd seen him lurking around outside the Price's and any unusual behaviour of that kind warranted her sticking her nose in.

At least that's what she told herself when worrying that she was wasting precious time doing things she shouldn't be doing. But it wasn't as if she wasn't attracted to him. No, Matt was good looking and sweet and... and she really hoped that he had nothing to do with her parents' murders but couldn't help but need to clear him from her 'investigations' properly.

Just as she was about to leave, the gruff, arrogant sound of Gene Hunt's voice echoed through the halls stopping her in her tracks.

"And where the bloody 'ell do you think you're going Drake?!"

She turned on her heel to face him, the usual annoyed frown dressing her features, "I told you; I have to leave early."

"And I told you yer stayin' 'ere. Finished yer paperwork have you?" he grunted, glaring at her.

"No. No I have not, but I can finish it tomorrow. Since when did you care about paperwork being done on time anyway? I thought it was a 'waste of time which could be spent on clearing the scum of the nation'?" Alex raised an eyebrow as if to make her point.

That shut him up. Briefly. She guessed he would have made some pun about her dressed like a tom, if it wasn't that she'd purposely taken a more subtle route tonight.

"Yeah... well... fine." It was unlike him to not put up a fight, but Alex took her way out and left it at that.

* * *

They'd chosen to meet at Luigi's, much to Alex's reluctance as she _really_ didn't need him sticking his nose in again. She was very conscious of the probability of Gene and co turning up too, which made her twitchy, and she hoped Matt wouldn't notice.

"So," she said, as they were half way through their plates of spaghetti, "what is it that you do?"

She didn't really need to ask; she was just being polite and covering the fact that she'd followed him around for three days before finally approaching him at a bar the night before and asking him out. He worked on a large development in town, she knew that much. She'd followed him to a building site, watched him as he chatted to builders, flashing his charming smile and fluttering around in an expensive suit. He was management of some sort, she supposed.

"I work up on the new estate – Ridge Housing Development – do you know it?"

Alex's heart sank. She recognized the name; of course she recognized the name. It was where she'd ended up for a few weeks after her parents had died. She remembered being taken to look around, being carried on Evan's shoulders, his weak attempt at cheering her up when all she wanted to do was cry. He thought she'd want to be as far away from _that_house as she possibly could, but he was wrong. She didn't want to live on some stupid estate, and eventually he'd given up and they'd moved back into her old house. Evan had always made her feel safe._Even if he was sleeping with my mother_, she thought, with a slight shudder.

"Oh yes. You're a builder?" she offered, hoping he wasn't seeing through her questions.

"No...no... more an architect. A wannabe architect I suppose," his blue eyes glittered and Alex couldn't help but get slightly lost in them, "I helped with designing the buildings. Nothing big though... more apprenticeship than anything else."

"Oh right," she chortled, "that's interesting, I guess."

"And you Alex, what do you do?"

She looked down at her glass of wine. This was the bit where normal men ran away. Where if they had anything to hide, from an unpaid parking ticket to anything much worse, they freaked out and left. Alex cleared her throat.

"I'm a police psychologist," she said, cautiously, continuously watching Matt for some kind of reaction.

"Wow... that sounds far more interesting if you ask me. Deep," he chugged down some wine and grinned at her. A wonderful, sparkling grin that made her giddy inside, in a way only one other man could. _But you're not here to think about him, _she reminded herself silently.

Things escalated. She would have been perfectly happy just having a nice meal, digging for information a little but not too much as she was almost completely satisfied that there was nothing dodgy about this guy. Of course, there was no way of her fishing for information regarding her parents, not yet at least, but she was content with just having a conversation. Before she knew what was happening she was drunk and letting him into her flat.

It was not completely unlike the last time she'd let a bloke up here.

There was a lot of fumbling and a lot of clothes being ripped and discarded, lips clashing, tongues fighting, hands running through waves of soft hair. It was only when it all started to hurt, when his touches were too rough and he was pushing her head first against a wall that she decided there was something wrong.

"No...wait...I...Matt...I don't want to," she breathed, her face pressed up against the wall closest to the door. He had one hand on her back, trying to unclip her bra, the other forcing her ever closer to the concrete wall.

He ignored her, pulling at the silky material until it came away. She suddenly felt far to exposed, dizziness coming over her in a flush of emotions and pain and she realized he'd pulled her underwear off as well as his own and was forcing her towards the bedroom. She couldn't see, spurts of white flashing lights filling her vision as she felt herself fall onto the soft cushioning of her mattress. This wasn't the guy she'd fallen for. And why the hell was she so weak? However hard she tried, she just couldn't fight it. Her lower body was numb (probably a good thing) and before she knew what was happening she was completely out of it, the room filled with darkness and emptiness.

And then it appeared. That sodding clown. Alex could have wrapped her fingers around it's scrawny neck and strangled it if she'd had the strength and if it let her get close enough to it. _This isn't real. It isn't happening. I can wake up from this, you have to let me wake up, _she pleaded with herself, but to no avail.

The clown disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2

When Alex opened her eyes she realized she still couldn't feel her legs. She was sprawled across her bed, a flimsy sheet barely covering her body. Glancing around with scared, tired eyes she tried to work out where Matt had gone. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized, even through the open door, he was out of sight. He'd left and she was safe. Attempting to sit up, on the other hand, proved difficult when she was unable to control anything bellow her hips. She partly turned herself round and grabbed hold of her headboard, twisting herself into an almost seated position. It was only then, when the sheet had fallen off her, that she noticed the blood dripping down her thigh. She didn't even want to think about how that had got there.

Her eyes dodged around the room looking for her telephone, before hazily remembering that it was in the living room. _And this, _she thought wearily, _is why the mobile phone was invented. _Still, she needed to get out of here somehow, and with the difficulty even sitting up, she wasn't willing to chance dragging herself into the other room.

"Luigi," she muttered, finally remembering her surroundings and the fact that she was situated directly above a whole room full of people.

Just as she maneuvered herself to the end of the bed, there was a loud crash from the bathroom. _He's still here_, she thought, panicking.

"LUIGI!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. Her usual calm, poised attitude had been thrown out of the window, along with any respect she'd ever had for men in general at this moment in time. It was hard to stay calm when you were lying on your own bed, partially paralyzed (temporarily, she hoped) and almost entirely naked.

It was no use. The music in the bar below was just too loud, and given the fact she'd gone up to the flat with a man, any noises they could hear would probably be put down to sex. She shuddered at the thought.

"Hello again sweetcheeks," Matt whispered, moving back into the room, barely dressed in a vest and boxers. His other clothes, she presumed, were on the floor somewhere with her own. He came towards her, lifting a hand to her face. It was warm and clammy, and made her want to throw up. Stroking her face gently, he chuckled to himself.

"Why are you doing this?!" Alex demanded, moving her head away from his touch. She couldn't move her arms properly, or she'd have tried to deck him one.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he grabbed her wrists and pulled them behind her, clutching them with shocking – not to mention unnecessary - strength.

"Oh but I think I do know. The knowledge that anyone downstairs could hear you, that we're in a public place... you find it exhilarating. It gets the adrenaline pumping, knowing you could get caught."

Matt rolled his eyes, his vice-like grip loosening ever so slightly, "Jesus Christ..."

"You may have been abused as a child... if not then, almost definitely later in life. That's almost always the case," she continued, trying desperately to control herself; her breathing was irregular, raspy, and she couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye, "you take out the emotional pain on people who can't fight back; women. Drug them and rape them."

"Quite finished?" he snarled, glancing down at her, "And cover yourself up will you."

"Slight problem there," she spat at him, wriggling her hands as much as she could.

He let go of one hand and scooped up his shirt from the floor, gently sliding it over Alex's shoulders. His touch made her shiver; an unexpected softness in a violent situation. There was nothing gentle or soft about his jerking her arms through the sleeves though; infact, she thought he yanked her left arm so hard that if could easily have dislocated from her shoulder. Once he was done, he regained control of her arms with one hand, and carefully buttoned up his shirt with the other. Then, much to her disgust, he ran his index finger along the inside of her thigh, where the blood was.

"Get the fuck off me," she growled, wishing then, more than ever, that she had command over her legs.

"Tut tut. Nasty language from a woman, don't you think Alex?"

"Get it over with Matt. What is it you want?" A lock of hair fell over her eyes, and he brushed it away with one hand.

Then, he reached onto the floor again, picking up his tie, and looped it round her wrists, pulling so hard that she guessed it would probably bruise.

"Don't want you to get away now do we?" he muttered, knotting the tie.

"What is it that you want?!" she repeated, louder, as he scooped her up and propped her up against the headboard.

"Right now? For you to shut the hell up. I mean, seriously, do you ever stop talking?"

Alex narrowed her eyes, but remained silent.

"Thank you," that sickeningly sweet grin was easier to see through now, and she realized there was actually something very demonic about it, "now... would I be right in thinking you can't feel your legs?"

He was so calm and collected that it put her on edge. There was something about the way he was acting which told her this wasn't the first time he'd done something like this. How the department hadn't heard about it, she really could not understand.

"Where's Drake?" Gene scowled, throwing himself down at the bar.

"I sorry, who? Pretty colleague of signore Hunt?" as Jolly as always, Luigi replied with a confused smile.

"Yes, the bird in yer bloody flat upstairs. Where is she?"

"She go upstairs with young man signore."

Gene raised an eyebrow, remembering how she'd left the station earlier, "oh, right. Ta Luigi. Get me a pint will yer?"

"Si."

Although something didn't seem quite right, Hunt left at that. It was none of his business who she slept with anyway; even if it was giving her a bad name.

"What were you doing outside the Price's house?" Alex couldn't help but ask, as Matt busied himself tidying her bedroom.

He didn't reply, and once he'd finished gathering clothes he returned to her side with a sneer on his once handsome features.

"Once the feeling comes back in your legs I'll finish what I've started... I'm going back to the bathroom. I hear one peep and I'll be back in here to blow your brains out; you hear me?"

Alex nodded, unable to do much else.

Once he'd gone, she started to put every ounce of strength she had into regaining feeling in her feet. Glaring down at her toes, she tried to wriggle them. There wasn't even the slightest movement and she was concentrating so hard that within minutes she'd exhausted herself. Alex decided to put her mind to trying to think of drugs that could spike drinks in the 80s. It was far more common back in 2008, but she couldn't really recall many cases of it in the 80s. She needed to know what she was dealing with before she did much else.

As she was thinking, she didn't realize she was moving closer to the edge of her bed, slipping slightly on the silky material of her duvet. Matt had only moved her slightly away from the end. Before she knew what was happening, she'd slid off and fallen with a large bang onto the carpeted flooring. Letting out a cry of pain as she landed on her bound wrists, she tried desperately not to make too much noise. She didn't think Matt was one to break his threats.

"Guv?"

Gene turned, drink in hand, and glared at Chris, "What the bloody 'ell is it? Can't you see I'm enjoying a pint? This better be important. Anything less than you being chased by a sodding psychopath – with a chainsaw - and I don't wanna know."

"There's something wrong Guv," Ray interrupted, as Chris shuddered at the mental image Hunt had put into his head.

"What kind of wrong? Spit it out Raymundo."

Chris cleared his throat, "there was a loud thud from upstairs, and then a scream... from like... DI Drake's flat."

"What she gets up to in 'er own time ain't any of our business," he sipped his pint, "though I always thought she'd be the kinky kind... like it rough."

Ray smirked but Chris continued to look worried.

"It was a scream of pain... not a good scream."

Hunt reluctantly put down his pint, "this had better be good."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Again, not entirely happy with this chapter but I wanted to get something up and I was really inspired by this week's episode. I promise I'm not a complete psychopath, although I can understand you thinking I might be since everyone else writes really sweet fluffy stuff and here I am having Alex tortured and potentially killed but I assure you I'm not!! Unfortunately I've had the next section of this written for a while; it was just getting there that was the problem so this, to me, seems a bit rushed. Never mind, I'm never happy with anything I write anyway haha. Thank you so much for the kind reviews.**

Alex was still struggling on the floor, her bound hands squashed between her back and the carpet. She was beginning to think they were going to end up broken to. It hurt to move but she knew that if she didn't worse damage would pursue.

Matt's head appeared round the door. Glancing up at him momentarily, Alex met his angry eyes and the pain was replaced with fear. He was glaring at her, a look of rage on his pale features. She recognised it. It was that same kind of look that had been one of the last things she saw before ending up in this strange imaginary world of 1981. Her pulse raced. If she died here, she'd die in the real world too, wouldn't she? There would be no way of getting back to Molly then.

"So, you thought you'd try to run off did you?" Matt snarled, moving closer to her, standing over her so that she was forced to look up at him.

"No! I fell off the bed. I'm paralytic from the waist down… you could set fire to my legs and I wouldn't feel it," she rambled, unsure of what to do. There was no way of getting out of this; the least she could do was try not to piss him off any further.

"Don't go giving me ideas,"

With that he was off back to the bathroom.

She was really beginning to wonder what he was doing in there.

Outside the door to the flat, Chris and Ray stood awkwardly with their DCI. Ray still had that same half-smirk on his face, whilst Chris looked terrified.

"Pull yerself together," Hunt barked, "you look like yer about to piss yer pants,"

Chris muttered something inaudible, and Ray chuckled to himself.

"Are we um… going in?" The former asked.

"Yer the one who thought you 'eard weird noises. You tell me!"

Ray looked eagerly at Chris in the same mocking manner as usual, expecting the poor lad to crack since he usually did. Chris, on the other hand, seemed to find strength in Ray's teasing and puffed up his chest, turning to Hunt and nodding.

"Yeah, I think we should go in. It might be nothing but my gut feeling is that it isn't."

"Well if we get in there and all we find is Bolly Knickers 'avin a good 'ard shag then yer getting the drinks in for a month," Hunt muttered, as he prepared to break the door down.

"I should have brought a camera!" Ray commented, earning a glare from his DCI and a snigger from Chris.

One run up later and the door was swinging off its hinges and the three were heading inside the flat.

"She might have her undies hanging up somewhere," Ray said as they entered, looking around with a slight grin.

It was silent. They moved towards the living room, but Chris was already suspecting that he had been wrong, his cheeks going red at the thought of them stumbling in on something they shouldn't.

"Anyone 'ere? Bolly?"

No one replied.

They headed for her bedroom, but just as they were approaching the room, a cough sounded from the bathroom and Hunt turned quickly to see who had made it.

He came eye to eye with a thin, sandy-haired guy with a look of surprise on his face. His arms were behind his back, but the front of his vest was stained with blood. Chris froze, Ray's grin was wiped clean off his face, and Hunt threw himself at the man.

"You evil, murdering little BASTARD!" He screamed, throwing punches at the guy's face, and then kneeing him in the stomach so that he was bent over on the floor. Once he was down, Hunt kicked him until the man was unconscious.

"Guv?" Chris's voice was shaky, wavering.

Hunt turned round, and if they hadn't known better, they'd have sworn there were tears in his eyes.

"Ray, go in there. I don't wanna see what's in there, just go in there will you?!" he'd gone a strange shade of almost-green and the team had only ever seen him like this once before – the day Sam Tyler was announced dead.

Ray faltered, "uh… yes Guv, sure thing."

He took a deep breath before slowly entering the bathroom. The two outside held their breath, fearing the worst.

Ray appeared again, a dead cat swinging from his left hand, a look of repulsion on his face.

"What the bloody 'ell is that?" Hunt asked, the colour coming back to his cheeks, ever so slightly.

"It's a dead moggy Guv."

Hunt glared at him, "I can see that. What is the soddin' thing doin' 'ere?!"

"I don't know Guv but it's the only thing in that bathroom."

Hunt wiped his hand over his face, mopping at the sweat building on his forehead, "are you sure?"

"Yeah… well besides shampoo and make-up and other things that birds 'ave. Oh and…" he produced his other hand to reveal a lacy piece of underwear, "these. Jackpot!" He threw them in Chris's direction, and on instinct Chris caught them, sniggering.

Hunt grabbed the pair of knickers from him, and threw them on the counter, "Stop pissin' around. Does it not occur to you that we still ain't find DI Drake?!"

"No Guv… sorry Guv," Chris muttered, then looked down at the guy that was knocked out on the floor, "what are we gonna do with him?"

"Raymundo, you put 'im back where we found 'im and lock the door. Christopher and my good self will go in there and see if we can find Drake," Gene said bleakly, running a hand over his face again, "well?! What are you waiting for?!"

Ray did as he was told, and leant over the now partially waking up man, dragging him towards the bathroom.

The door to Alex's room was slightly open, but if she was in there, she wasn't making any noise. Hunt tried not to fear the worst, but he had a sick feeling in his stomach. Not an 'I've just eaten too much spaghetti and drank too much lager' feeling either. He edged closer to the door, Chris following. As they approached, he kicked the door gently with the toe of his boot, realizing that she could be directly behind it and not wanting to hurt her.

"Drake?" he whispered, pushing the door further until it was completely open, and he could see in.

The room was dark and he searched for the light switch, finally finding it and flicking it on. A soft buzz filled the room as the bulb lit, and he could finally see where his DI was.

She was laying on her bed, her wrists tied to the headboard, eyes closed, in nothing more than a shirt. There was a slight trickle of dried blood on her forehead, another on her leg. Hunt moved cautiously over to her and pressed his head to her chest. There was no sound coming and she wasn't moving; no soft rise and fall as she breathed in and out.

"Is she…?" Chris said, his voice shaky and quiet.

"I…I don't know."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Okay this bit I'm actually happy with, although parts of it really mirror this week's episode (some of which weren't done purposely, I'd like to point out, and were actually written before I'd seen it!). Thank you so much for all your reviews; it's really encouraging to see I'm doing some things right! And with this, I need some help. I don't know if where I've left this chapter is enough, and I should leave it here, or if I should continue with a couple more chapters? It really depends on how intrigued people are about this Matt character (who, by the way, was totally not named after Keeley's husband. I only noticed the connection this morning!). So yeah, let me know cos I'm entirely undecided. I did originally intend on a bit of a steamy Alex/Gene scene in there somewhere but I don't know if it'll ruin the whole thing...

-

At first, he just didn't know what to do. It was so uncharacteristic of him, but it was true. He froze. Gene Hunt, for the first time in his life – or at least since his first day of school – froze up entirely.

Alex was a very pasty colour, and as he lifted his head from her chest, Gene found himself having to go through CPR in his own head before even attempting to perform it. Shakily, he reached down and placed his hands in the position his head had just been in. He'd been wanting to cop a feel of his DI's chest – properly, not like he had on her first day – since... well since he'd met her; but this wasn't quite what he'd had in mind.

"Guv?"

"Shut up will you Chris," Hunt muttered, but Chris could tell his heart wasn't in it. His voice was no longer gruff and what he said wasn't so much an order as a plead.

"Do you need some help?"

Gene started to pound on Alex's chest, stopping to check after a moment to see if his efforts were working. He ignored Chris and concentrated on the constant pounding of his own wrists. He refused to believe that this was it; that she was gone. But as hard as he tried, he wasn't getting anything in return. Exhausted and frustrated, he stopped, dropping his head onto his stilled arms, refusing to let Chris see him as tears welled up in his eyes.

"Jesus Christ Hunt, what the hell are you doing. Trying to kill me?" a soft voice, just above his left ear, murmured.

Hunt's eyes snapped open and he sat up, looking down at her with glistening eyes.

"You weigh a ton," she choked, trying to sit up, and realizing she couldn't because her hands were tied to the headboard. Upon this discovery, she then noticed that when she tried to move her foot, it did so wilfully. She smiled weakly. Then, her eyes fell upon Hunt. "Are you crying?"

"No! Shut it Bolly. You're supposed to be grateful." He wiped frantically at his eyes to rid them of any trace of tears, but when he spoke again his voice was soft and laced with relief, "I thought I'd lost you."

"So did I," she admitted, a tear rolling off her own cheek, "and I am grateful. Thank you Gene. I'd give you a kiss if I wasn't... well... you know," she looked up at the tie binding her wrists.

"Oh sod, yeah! Chris, give me a 'and with these will you?"

Chris did as he was told and together they sorted out the very knotted make-shift rope and freed Alex's arms. As predicted, it had left a purpley bruise around both her wrists.

She sat up, smiling shyly in Gene's direction and, for the first time ever, he smiled back. Not a smirk, not a 'I've got one over you' grin, but an actual genuine smile.

"I'm...I'll... I'll go help Ray."

Chris left the room.

"Where is he?" Alex asked, hesitantly, as Gene moved over to her drawers and took out some pyjama bottoms, which she took with a appreciative nod.

"Ray? He's sortin' out yer bathroom. It's a bloody mess in there and if yer undies are all gone in the mornin' it weren't me..."

Alex shook her head, as she slid the pyjamas carefully over herself, wincing. "No. Matt. Where's Matt?"

"The bastard who did this to you?! Why the bloody 'ell would you wanna know where he is?" Hunt spat, then softened, "sorry... he erm... Ray's sorting 'im out."

"Okay. I...I don't know how this happened."

Gene looked down at her with an unusual look in his eyes. Alex recognised it, but couldn't place it. It didn't matter; it was a look which made her feel safe and which she wished he'd use more often.

"It's alright. We're gonna get rid of this guy for you. You don't need to worry about 'im, Bolly."

Tears welled up in her eyes. Gene paused for a moment, before slipping his arms carefully around her. Taken aback, but certainly not in any position to complain, Alex sunk into them, sobbing into his shoulder.

"This is my own world. How could my subconscious be so... _horrible._ Why would I... why would I make up something like this. Why would my subliminal self do that?! I must be some kind of psychotic... sadistic... _monster_ to even want this for myself... I..." she finally stopped, whimpering and nuzzling into his shoulder, whilst Hunt pretended to know what the hell she was going on about.

"Bolly," he whispered, cautiously. His hand, without him realizing it, had started to rub circles on her back in an attempt to soothe her.

"I just...I want to wake up from this. I thought I was going to... going to..." her voice cracked, "I thought I was going to die. Which is ridiculous because for all I know I could already be dead."

Gene pulled her away from him, holding her at arms length, "look at me Drake,"

She did as she was told.

"You are not dead. You're as living and breathing and... _real _as I am."

"Great!" A small, bitter laugh left her lips, "I'm about as real as someone my subconscious invented."

"You what?"

Alex took a deep breath, "you're not real Gene. You're a creation of my own mind. No, worse than that, you're a creation of Sam's mind. A creation which I stole from reading report upon report of the poor man."

She thought she saw tears rise up in the corners of Gene's eyes, but if she was right, he blinked them away before they could fall.

"That's not true. If I wasn't real how did I bring you back to life?"

"You haven't," she whispered, not wanting to hurt him, even if he was only something created in her mind. Which, if she was honest, she was beginning to think was no longer the case, "I'm still dying in a hospital bed in 2008."

"Concussion... that's what you've got Bolly. You don't know what you're talkin' about. You're in shock... traumatised or whatever."

Alex shook her head, tears rolling off her cheeks more steadily now, "I wish it was. I wish it really was that because then my mind wouldn't have to keep thinking, wouldn't have to keep making connections and I''d wake up tomorrow and I'd have Molly and all of this would just be a really bad... really bad dream."

There was no way Gene was listening to any of this. No way he was going to believe that he wasn't real. It was like telling someone that they'd never born; that they didn't exist. In fact, that was exactly what she _was_ saying. He'd long since let go of her shoulders, and he watched as she leant back on the bed. Whatever this was; this break down of hers, it was breaking his heart apart just as much as it was hers. He wanted to hold her, to look after her. And he didn't understand why.

"Look. I don't know what that _creep_ did to you. And if I'm completely honest, I don't wanna know, but you need to snap outta this. I need my DI back." Gene said, after a short moment.

"Your DI?" Alex looked up at him, "is that all I am to you?"

"You know full bloody well that that's not all you are to me," he whispered, "and you tell a soul that and I'll have to..."

"...stamp on my pretty little head, right?"

"Yeah," he grunted, "'sactly Bolls."

"See, that's what I don't get about you Gene. One minute, you're... you're caring and gentle and..." she blushed, realizing what she was saying and halting to silence.

"...and then what?"

"And then you call me Bolly Knickers, or grunt at me, and I'm back to being irritated instead of..."

Gene looked at her carefully. Her green eyes looked tired, and he could hardly blame her for being exhausted, but there was something else in there too. Something he couldn't identify. He had an inkling of what it was, but he didn't want to admit to thinking it, because if he was wrong, he knew it'd break his heart.

"...instead of what? Geez, can you at least finish yer sentences?" but it wasn't aggressive, and he could see by the way her face softened that she knew he was being genuine about this. That he _needed_ to know how she felt.

"I can't Gene...I can't... You don't know what he did to me. I can't commit myself to this universe. I can't say things which will just make it harder for me to leave."

"What are ya, ET?! Come on Bolly, just say it!"

She let out a soft sobbing sound and when Gene looked at her eyes again, he could see they were filling again.

"Instead of... instead of whatever this is. This need inside of me for... for..." she stopped, overwhelmed by the emotion that was washing through her. This night had been rough; she did not need this.

"For me?" Gene said. He didn't need a verbal answer, it was all in her eyes.

He leaned towards Alex, slowly, as not to startle her - she'd been terrified enough tonight – and moved a hand carefully to her cheek, his fingertips brushing her soft skin. She didn't pull away, her eyes sliding closed. Gene moved closer, so that their lips were merely an inch away from each other.

"This has to come from you," he breathed, stroking her cheek.

She leant more, her lips gently caressing his in a delicate kiss. It wasn't very committing, but Gene hadn't expected it to be, not after what she'd been put through. He returned the kiss, a new-found tenderness which he had reserved for her finding its way through. He would have liked the kiss to have gone deeper, but given the circumstances...

...that and the sniggers he heard from the doorway.

Breaking the kiss apart, he turned his head and met Ray square in the eyes. He glared firstly at Ray, then at Chris. Chris, always the scaredy-cat, took the hint and left hurriedly. Ray, on the other hand stayed where he was.

"Raymundo. Give us a moment please?" Hunt snapped, glancing at Alex, who still had he eyes closed, and was clutching at his hand.

"Yes Guv I just..." Ray grinned, "it's about time, ain't it?"

And Gene knew that was the most sincere comment he was likely to get out of either of them.


End file.
